


Missing Morgon

by seleneheart



Category: Riddle-Master Trilogy - Patricia A. McKillip
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 08:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18687478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seleneheart/pseuds/seleneheart
Summary: Rood needs answers after Morgon disappears





	Missing Morgon

The year Morgon disappeared, Rood stayed at the College of Riddlemasters, desperately searching for answers. He had sent his best friend on a quest that had taken him from the face of the realm and no one, not the northern kings, not the traders, not the Masters of the College, knew where the Prince of Hed was.

The only small thing that saved Rood from utter despair was the knowledge that the land-law of Hed had not passed to Morgon’s brother, Eliard.

So for a year, he delved into every book in the College library, he haunted waterfront taverns, not, as he had been accused, to drown his sorrows in beer from Hed, but instead he went to listen to trader’s tales, winnowing every word that was said, trying to separate fact from speculation, tracing the branching patterns of riddlery, looking for answers.

When the summer ended, restlessness drove him, scudded him about like a leaf before the strengthening autumn winds. He wished that he could follow Morgon’s trail to Erlenstar Mountain, but his father refused his request, sending back a cryptic message about his mother not wanting him to go so far away. Rood crumpled the parchment in disgust, wondering why Mathom was being so difficult, for, knowing his mother, he was surprised that Cyone hadn’t made the trip herself, demanding answers.

One trip that Mathom could not deny him, for Rood never told him about it, was the short trip over the water to Hed.

The traders tolerated him, knowing his gold was good, thinking he was just the eccentric second son of a very eccentric king. They left him alone on the voyage and did not make a fuss about their passenger when they landed at Tol, for which Rood was grateful, for he was able to see Hed without the distraction of Morgon’s family.

Because it was Hed that had pulled Morgon away from him the first time . . . the small island of farmers. Rood could see that Morgon’s spirit burned too brightly to be wasted on a farm, but Morgon insisted that his duty lay in Hed, and he had left Rood.

And now . . . Morgon was gone, completely, challenged by Rood to answer the one riddle that might prove deadly to him, and Rood needed to understand.

His cloak was an old one, stained and worn from many travels, his clothes were old too, nothing to mark him as a Prince of An. The fields were muddy with the early autumn rains, but the grain was full, bursting on it’s stalks, awaiting the harvest. The land was soft, with rare trees bordering terrain of different farms.

The wind came from the sea, but it brought rain without storms, gentle rain that encouraged growth. The air had a chill to it, but yet was still soft. The fields were ordered and tame, the inns no more than farmer’s houses where the drinking was done with placid good cheer. The peace of Hed spread itself over him, the gentle, quiet land soothing his aching spirit.

But he knew that a man with stars on his face had no place in Hed, and he left, knowing that he would have to look elsewhere to solve the riddle of Morgon.


End file.
